


Peacekeeper

by Avvkward



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Alternate Universe - Human, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Is a Good Bro, Detective Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Human North (Detroit: Become Human), Injured Markus (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Minor Injuries, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Relationship, Protective Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Sassy Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Todd Williams is a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25763857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avvkward/pseuds/Avvkward
Summary: Markus Manfred is what people would call a peacekeeper whenever he's out protesting with Jericho. He didn't like things getting violent, and he generally kept any protest he was a part of respectful and, well, peaceful.Which is why it comes as a big shock to Connor when he learns that the Peacekeeper himself is in interrogation room 2, under charges of assault. Something doesn't seem right about that, and clearly he's the only one in the whole of the DPD to notice that. Figures.
Relationships: Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor, Markus & North (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 255





	Peacekeeper

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm back with another fic! Today we've got some Detective!Connor and arrested ProtestLeader!Markus budding romance. I wanted to write Connor socializing in a work setting because we only really saw him working with Hank in the game. And of course add some Markus because you can't stop me. I just love Connor and Markus so much, they're my sons. I've been sitting on this idea for a while, and finally decided to write and post it!
> 
> I should also start off by saying I'm terrible with writing law; that one semester of Canadian Law really did nothing for me, so everything in this is me guessing and making things up, if it's wrong. If it's right, score. Just go with it if it's incorrect lol.
> 
> Anyways! Enjoy :D

“Welcome back Lieutenant, Detective.” 

Connor turned swiftly, giving a slight nod to Officer Miller as Hank waved him off irritably as he made his way towards their desks. The older man dropped tiredly into his office chair, while Connor seated himself stiffly, in his usual pristine fashion. 

Officer Miller trailed behind them, chewing his bottom lip in thought. Connor casted a look in his direction, studying his co-worker as Chris seemed to choose his words regarding why he’d accompanied them to their desks instead of going to his own carefully. 

All it took was for Hank to lull his head in Chris’ direction for the officer to finally speak. 

“While the two of you were out, Detective Collins and I busted up a protest in downtown. Reed and Chen met us there when calls of violence were reported. We managed to bring in a couple protesters between the two squad cars. We’ve got Manfred in interrogation room two with a charge of assault.” 

“No shit, Manfred?” Hank turned in his chair in Miller’s direction, shock present in his expression. 

“Yeah, Reed’s been trying to get answers from him since he was brought in, but he ain’t really talking. Keeps trying to feed us the same sugarcoated story, but we all know Reed doesn’t take shit like that.” 

“Not going well then?” Connor asked as he grabbed a pen from one of his drawers to jot down a couple things from his and Hank’s own case. Miller gave him an annoyed look, to which Connor returned a small, playful smile. 

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Hank scoffed as he shuffled out of his jacket, the fabric falling over the back of his chair and pooling behind him. “Reed wouldn’t know proper interrogation if it smacked him across the face. I wouldn’t talk to that shithead either.” 

“Lieutenant,” Connor huffed in annoyance, glaring at the older man. Hank narrowed his eyes at Connor before raising his hands in mock surrender and scoffing. 

Miller looked between them in amusement, but knew better than to comment on it if he wanted to come out of this without being ripped apart by Hank. Most of the officers and detectives in the DPD thought Hank and Connor’s relationship was hilarious. 

And most had seen a vicious side of Hank when they first teased them about it. 

Connor could see the humor in the situation, mostly since he’d done what no other could, which was to weasel his way into a partnership with the man who denied every single opportunity to be partnered with someone. Hank had been partner-less for years before Connor. 

Connor shook his head at Chris’ hidden smile before clearing his throat and pressing for more information, “an assault charge? Isn’t Markus Manfred usually a peacekeeper?” 

Connor had been following the Jericho protest, as well as the four main Jericho leaders for some time-- since they started making the news for actually making progress for their cause while also keeping things relatively peaceful. 

Connor had always thought Markus’ approach to things was refreshing, these protests included, since he didn’t instantly resort to violence, and tried extremely hard to keep everything neutral and blood free. There was rarely any bloodshed when Jericho was involved. 

And not once had the DPD ever gotten a report that Manfred himself had gotten physical with anyone at any protest—well, a report that actually checked out. There were always dishonest reports to get attention and stir the pot when it came to media. 

Markus Manfred had been nicknamed The Peacekeeper around the DPD whenever Jericho made headlines and was on the news, or happened to be brought in for questioning. So, this was clearly a red flag that Connor was sure his coworkers had brushed over. 

“Yeah,” Miller nodded, leaning against Connor’s desk, “Manfred and a man named Todd Williams were the only two in a scuffle—as far as we know at least. They were the only two of everyone we brought in with blood on their faces and injuries to boot, which makes our jobs a whole lot easier. Manfred even admitted to attacking Mister Williams, who is in our holding cell. He’s... not entirely sober, and he’s not talking either, not that anything he says in this state will really be taken seriously.” 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Hank rolled his eyes exasperated, “lemme guess, he’s hopped up on red ice, right?” 

“Spot on, Lieutenant.” Miller sighed, leaning a bit more against Connor’s desk and reaching a hand up to palm down his face. “We found red ice on his person when we took him into custody earlier. He’s in detox detainment now. He hasn’t said much more than intoxication slurs.” 

“Figures,” Hank huffed a breath, leaning back in his chair, “that damn drug does nothing but make people bigger assholes than they already are, and kill people.” 

“Can’t argue there,” Miller agreed solemnly. 

Connor gave a thoughtful nod of agreement, but didn’t voice anything. He’d never been as invested in red ice as Hank—but then again, the drug had never taken anything away from him like it had Hank. It was still an awful thing Connor hated having to deal with though, Hank spoke the truth of its effects on people. 

“So, who else did you guys bring in?” Hank questioned easily, reaching up to turn on the computer in front of him to work on the report he and Connor needed to hand in to Captain Fowler. It was Hank’s turn, since Connor had done the last three. 

“Both interrogation rooms are occupied, as well as the holding cells. Three in one cell, and Williams by himself in the other.” 

“Right.” Hank nodded thoughtfully, clicking and opening documents on his desktop, “Manfred’s in one of the interrogation rooms. Who’s in the other?” 

“North Kelly.” 

“Another Jericho leader?” Connor asked in surprise. “Kelly and Manfred were brought in together?” 

As far as Connor knew, North Kelly tended to be the most violent of the four leaders. She was always the one in video clips to be up in someone’s face, or to be dodging or delivering a punch to some asshole harassing their protest—always with Markus scolding her and trying to draw her back in the background. 

Honestly, if any one of the Jericho leaders was to be arrested under assault charges, Connor had always thought it would’ve been North. And that’s just going off what he’s seen over the time of their protests. 

This case just didn’t seem right. 

“Yeah,” Miller nodded, “she didn’t really do much—attempted to break away from Reed and gave him an elbow to the gut, that I’m sure wasn’t intentional, while trying to wiggle from his grip.” 

“I like her already,” Hank mumbled, as he scrolled through his computer. The older man purposely avoided Connor’s scolding gaze. “That must’ve pissed ‘im off.” 

Hank didn’t appear to be paying attention, focused on his computer, but Connor knew he was. His little quips through the conversation was tell enough. The older man just liked the gossip, but didn’t want others to know he did. In any case though, he really couldn’t stop himself from making comments when it came to Detective Reed though. 

“I’ll say,” Miller rolled his eyes, but continued on, “that said though, we don’t have the rights to keep her long. She didn’t technically assault an officer, as much as Reed’s fuming she did. It’s on the squad car cam, she barely hit him. The most she’ll get is a ticket for blocking traffic like the unfortunate protesters in the holding cell to be caught.” 

“Is Detective Reed alright?” Connor asked with a tilt of his head. Hank scoffed loudly across their pushed together desks, and Miller gave a friendly smile. 

“Oh yeah, the only thing damaged was his pride.” 

“It’s about time someone knocked him down a couple pegs,” Hank huffed a laugh, “and North Kelly the one to do it, no less. Wish I hadda been there to see that.” 

Connor rolled his eyes, but kept his attention focused on Miller. 

Miller laughed lightly at Hank’s antics before sobering a bit, “Kelly ain’t talking either, just keeps saying they’re innocent. She won’t expand on it though, Tina’s been working with her for the past half-hour, but she’s got nothing.” 

“So, did you need us for something then, Officer Miller?” Connor asked easily, tapping the pen in his hand against the surface of his desk. 

The other frowned thoughtfully, then cleared his throat and he straightened his posture, “right, uhm, anyways, I was just... maybe one of you could possibly relieve Gavin of his interrogation with Manfred? The two of you are better suited, and... well, Manfred’s calmness is starting to piss Reed off.” 

“I’ll go,” Connor nodded as he stood from his chair, “but, I’d like to see Williams before I go to Manfred, alright?” 

“Sure,” Chris shrugged, “I’ll go try to pull Reed from the interrogation room.” 

“You do that,” Hank gruffed, hunching forward so his nose was almost pressing against his monitor, “I’m sure even Peacekeeper Manfred wants to punch him in the face after sitting in the room with him for this long.” 

“Just because you dislike Officer Reed, doesn’t mean everyone else does,” Connor chimed professionally as he walked around his desk. Officer Miller snorted a laugh as he finally made his way away from Hank and Connor’s desks. 

“Don’t give me that shit, Connor. You hate ‘im too. He’s a colossal dick.” 

“He is,” Connor gave an even smile, “but I can put that behind me. He’s good at his job, and has a couple redeeming qualities. Everyone has them.” 

Hank opened his mouth to attempt to refute, but Connor continued first, “I’ll be back. Captain Fowler wants that report by the end of the day, don’t forget.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you prick. I get it.”

* * *

Just as Connor said he was doing; the young detective first made his way to see Todd Williams. 

The man in question was flopped over on the ground, obviously starting to sober up. The man had totally disregarded the bench in the room, instead sitting towards the back of the room with his back against the far wall. 

Connor had no intention to talk with this man, sobering up or not. He didn’t like speaking with anyone intoxicated—well, except Hank, who was often tipsy if not drunk when they were outside of the station. 

Connor had never known a person high off their ass, like Mister Williams was, to be pleasant. Unless they were high off weed or something small like that. Any hard drugs left users twitchy and violent—especially when they’re being arrested for whatever reason. 

The man locked in the bullet-proof glass cell looked like he’d gone a couple rounds with a professional wrestler. Not damaged enough to be taken to the hospital immediately, but enough so that he’d need a first aid kit when he was sober enough to wipe the dried blood from his face and actually feel the damage caused in a completely conscious brain. 

Todd Williams had gotten the shit beat out of him, clearly. There was evidence of that, just like Miller had told him. 

Connor studied the snoozing man, from his bloody and bruising face, to his grubby clothes, to his slick, greasy hair. He wasn’t an overly tall man, Connor could tell that from how the man was slumped, but he had some weight on him. 

He’d quite obviously said, or done something to provoke any kind of outburst from Jericho. 

Connor really wasn’t supposed to assume things like this, but he’d _followed_ the peaceful movement of Jericho for so long, and not once had Markus ever been accused of anything along the lines of what he was currently being held for. 

It just didn’t strike Connor as something Markus would do. 

It seemed fishy. 

But as of now, since Connor wouldn’t be surprised in the end if William’s woke up with no recollection of the assault, which left the truth of what went down falling to Markus and North solely—Markus more so, since the charges were against him. 

It was up to Connor to really get to the bottom of this and give people rightful charges. Connor knew Markus, and he knew assault was not something Markus was capable of unprovoked. 

The detective spent a good couple minutes just watching the man. The man in the cell barely stirred, which Connor was grateful for. It was easier getting a feel of someone when they weren't being hostile, and people tended to be hostile in Connor’s presence. 

Connor was good at picking up small details that would further his case. 

His attention shifted across the man’s blotchy skin, and dirty clothes, taking mental notes of anything useful—but what caught his attention most, was the man’s hands. 

They were completely unharmed. 

Unusual when a fight was brought in—or more specifically, when someone intoxicated got themself into a fight-- their hands were busted up by their own doing. Intoxicated people’s movements were sloppy, and they only landed hits occasionally—and almost never right. 

In Connor’s field of being an investigation detective, hands and small details on the person told him a lot of the situation being brought in. Bruised and bloodied knuckles were always present when an altercation has taken place. Punching someone else often did just as much damage to yourself as it did to whoever you were punching if you were ill-equipped or didn’t know proper technique. 

Hell, sometimes Connor throws a punch, when taking down a criminal, that busts his own knuckles open. He’d been through hours upon hours of hand to hand combat, and still sometimes his angle is off, or his mind is elsewhere and his own hit gets the better of him. He was a trained professional, but still took the brunt of his own punches more than anything else. 

His point was that there was always proof people had been fighting from wounds that were often overlooked. Hands for example—easily hidden in pockets or behind people’s backs, but proof nonetheless. 

Now, one would assume, if you were shoved to the ground and were getting attacked, that you’d be throwing punches to get your attacker off. To free yourself and run, or to try and get the upper hand in the fight. Even with an intoxicated mind, the brain would be activating the fight or flight instinct as soon as the first punch was landed. 

But Todd William’s hands weren’t injured at all. Completely free of broken knuckles, or busted skin, or even small bruises. The only discoloration of his hands was a ring of bruising along his wrist where someone had most likely grabbed and squeezed to neutralize him. 

It looked like he hadn’t managed to land a single hit on Markus. 

Which was strange, because an intoxicated man being attacked would flail around to protect themselves. It was hard to believe that while flailing and throwing punches blindly that Todd Williams wouldn’t have managed to land a single hit. 

But even that didn’t make sense, because according to Miller, Markus was bleeding and injured as well. 

What a peculiar case.

* * *

After observing Mister Williams in the holding cell, Connor made his way to the interrogation room where Markus Manfred was being questioned. 

Connor entered the room hidden behind the two-way mirror. 

Gavin was still in the room, looking infuriated and seconds away from slugging a completely neutral Markus Manfred, who was defenseless and cuffed to the stainless-steel table. 

Connor stood towards the back for a second, arms crossed across his chest as he observed his co-worker and the supposed Peacekeeper. Gavin wasn’t speaking, and neither was Markus. For a man looking at a charge of assault, Markus Manfred looked very at ease. 

Connor shuffled in spot, drawing in the other two’s attention. 

Detective Collins noticed Connor in the background before Officer Miller did. 

“You ready to take a shot at getting information from Manfred?” 

Officer Miller turned towards Connor with a neutral face after his partner spoke. “Either way,” Miller continued on, “we need to pull Reed from there before he takes a swing at Manfred’s pretty face.” 

Connor adjusted his cuff link, nodding silently as Collins reached over to press the intercom button that connected to the comm in Reed’s ear. Connor decided against grabbing a comm for himself, so he could focus on Markus. Besides, he always did far better in interrogations when there wasn’t someone talking randomly in his ear. 

He passed Reed in the small hallway connecting the viewing room to the interrogation room, where the older man’s lip curled in a frustrated snarl as he shoulder checked Connor on his way past. Connor turned to watch the fuming man walk past into the viewing room, where he all but slammed the door behind him. 

Connor blinked once before adjusting the collar of his shirt and straightening his tie and jacket before finally stepping into the interrogation room. 

Markus’ eyes instantly fell on Connor’s frame as he stepped into the room. Connor himself couldn’t drag his attention away from Markus’ face. He’d seen the damage from the viewing room. Had noted the swelling in his nose and the bruising that travelled to the corner of his eye. 

The blood that had at one point been dripping down from Markus’ nose was just starting to dry onto Markus’ top lip, which was smudged from halfhearted attempts to wipe it away. Connor wanted to grab him a damp paper-towel and let the cuffs off him so he could fix himself up a bit, but thought better of it. 

There was clearly evidence of a recent fight. 

A hard hit that Todd Williams couldn’t have delivered by the perfect condition his hands were in. 

“Good afternoon, Mister Manfred.” Connor greeted after composing himself. He stepped all the way into the room, joining the other man at the interrogation table. Markus moved his hands to intertwine his fingers together and settle his hands on the table where there was no strain from the handcuffs. 

There was a file on the table in front of Connor, so the man swiftly flipped it open and gazed down at the documents inside. 

There wasn’t much. 

There wasn't really a crime scene in a case like this, so there were no pictures of evidence, and, according to the papers, Markus had never been arrested before so he wasn’t looking down at any other charges. 

The only papers inside were the ones regarding the current situation. Connor’s co-worker's reports from the scene, as well as Markus’ admission about assaulting Mister Williams, which Connor still didn’t quite believe. 

“I have some questions, if you don’t mind?” 

“Of course, officer.” Markus gave a light bow of his head, before he looked up at Connor with a smooth smile. Connor had half a mind to look away, but instead kept his attention the one cuffed to the table. 

"Detective actually,” Connor cleared his throat after a second, “Detective Connor Stern.” 

Markus paused, studying Connor’s face for a moment. Connor could almost see the cogs turning in Markus’ head as his gaze trailed slowly over Connor’s features. His nose scrunched up, but he didn’t say anything for another long second. 

Then, finally, 

“Apologies, Detective Stern." Markus tilted his head towards the mirror, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but... are you and Detective Reed really the same rank? That’s a bit hard to believe.” 

“Unfortunately,” Connor huffed, flipping the file closed since it was of no use to him. He already knew most of what was written in it from speaking with his associates anyways. 

Connor could only imagine the chaos Reed was causing in the viewing room at being the butt of the joke. He was also very glad he’d decided against the comm, since Reed couldn’t scream in his ear like a tantruming toddler. 

Markus gave a muffled laugh, and Connor himself almost smiled at getting a reaction from the man—even if it was at Gavin’s expense. “He’s a fine detective though, just a bit headstrong. I climbed the ranks fast, as did he.” 

“I have no doubt,” Markus agreed. 

Connor cleared his throat again, tilting his head in the two-way mirror’s direction. He could almost feel his associate’s eyes on him through the glass. 

“We’ve gotten off topic,” Connor breathed out. “Now, Mister Manfred--” 

“Markus.” 

Connor studied the dashing smile adorning the other’s lips over his own nose before blowing out through his nose and continuing, “ _Markus_ then, can you tell me what happened earlier today, leading up to your arrest?” 

“I can, Detective,” the other nodded, “we were peacefully protesting downtown-” 

“And who is we?” 

“My friends; North, Simon, Josh—a large percentage of Jericho. Honestly, the better question would be who _wasn’t_ with me.” 

“Stay on topic please, Markus.” 

“Right, sorry,” the other frowned thoughtfully, “we try to keep things peaceful, and, well, a man who we were quite sure was high stared harassing our people. I couldn’t stand for that—I couldn’t do nothing. We... uh, got into a bit of an argument, and well, we faught a bit before the police arrived.” 

“I see,” Connor nodded. He was staring at Markus now, elbows flat on the surface of the table and chin resting on his intertwined fingers. 

Connor could tell Markus was lying. Not about all of it... just... when he started trailing off. There were gaps in his story, and Connor was going to get to the bottom of it. 

“As I told detective Reed, I take full responsibility for my actions. I’m in the wrong, and I shouldn’t have hit him. He was clearly intoxicated and not in his right mind. I’ll take whatever fine, or sentence handed to me.” 

Connor listened silently to Markus speak as his eyes trailed Markus’ wounds before he thought back to Todd William’s hands. How they were unharmed, which was utterly confusing because Markus’ face was beaten just as Todd’s was. 

To a lesser degree, but still beaten. 

Supposedly by hands that showed no evidence of harming. 

Connor’s gaze dropped suddenly, and his eyebrows furrowed. Markus looked down as well, following Connor’s gaze. The man in the cuffs wiggled his fingers, when noticing that’s what Connor was looking at, on his completely unscathed hands. 

Nothing was out of place. 

No bruises, or scratches, or tears in his skin... no proof of any brunt force. 

Like Todd, Markus’ hands showed no evidence of causing harm to someone else. Neither’s hands supported the injuries on the other’s face. 

Connor was at a loss. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, is North-- North Kelly okay? We were brought in together, but I haven’t seen her since then.” 

“Yes, she’s just next door with an associate of min- oh. _Oh_.” Connor froze, blinked twice, then finally shook himself from his stupor, “could you... excuse me for a second. I need to check something.” 

Connor didn’t bother waiting for a reply, standing from his seat and exiting the interrogation room swiftly. He barely had the time to listen to the door he’d just exited close as he pulled the one to the viewing room open. 

“Connor, what’s up?” Collins asked slowly, eyeing the man. 

Behind Collins and Miller, Gavin snorted, “yeah, tin-head, you left the interrogation room real fast. Budding romance between your lover-boy get too real for you?” 

“Shut up, Reed,” Miller rolled his eyes. The shorter man’s eyes flashed and he moved to step towards Miller. 

“I’m your superior-” 

“I’ll be back,” Connor interrupted as he continued through the room and pulled the door leading to the hallway open, pausing for a second, “leave Markus be. I have a hunch.” 

“Leave him-” Gavin sputtered. 

“A hunch?” Miller prompted over Gavin, but Connor was already gone, and the weighted door shutting slowly after him. The man exchanged a glance with his partner before his gaze was following the sound of a scoff behind him. 

“That bastard is so weird.” Gavin snarled, “thinks he can tell us where to be and when. I don’t take orders from tin-heads like him. I’m going in there-” 

“Sit your ass down and wait,” Collins growled. “Let him do his thing. You know damn well Stern’s the best investigator we have at this precinct.” 

“Whatever.”

* * *

It didn’t take long for Connor to arrive at his destination. It was just three steps to the left, and a door to be exact. 

Officer Brown turned to look at Connor as he made his way into the room. He could see officer Chen standing off to the side of the room scowling at North Kelly. North Kelly was facing forwards, almost as if she were pretending that she was alone in the room. 

“I’m going in there,” Connor told Officer Brown, “I’ll be a second.” 

The man shrugged, gesturing to the door. Connor gave a nod of gratitude before walking forth and disappearing through the door. He walked through the second door and paused. 

North’s gaze lifted to Connor, but all he got from her was a scowl. Tina glanced at Connor too, obviously confused by his presence. 

“Detective Stern,” Tina greeted. Connor shifted uncomfortably at being addressed by his rank by someone who he considered a friend. He often forgot he was a superior to some of his co-workers. “What can I do for you?” 

“Oh.” Connor shook his head again, tightening his tie, “Oh, nothing really. I just wanted to meet Miss Kelly after talking with Mister Manfred.” 

North’s glare hardened on Connor, her lip curling into a snarl that reminded Connor a lot of Gavin’s own scowl. 

Connor moved forwards swiftly, palms flattening on the table right beside were North was seated. Her hands rubbed together in a movement between loathing her situation and the usual anxiousness being held in an interrogation room resulted. The cuffs restraining her wrists clinked as she moved. 

With one look down at North’s hands, Connor had his answers. 

A tiny smile tilted the corner of his lips up. 

“Quit looking at my hands you asshole,” North snarled, doing everything in her power to recoil her restrained wrists. “I’ve had just about enough of assholes like you. I ain’t supporting your weird kink.” 

“Miss Kelly,” Tina snarled, taking a threatening step (that didn’t appear to threaten North at all) towards the one cuffed to the table. “That’s not appropria-” 

“It’s alright, Officer Chen.” Connor waved it off with a thankful smile in her direction, “I’ve gotten what I needed. Thank you, Miss Kelly. Officer Chen, could you get Miss Kelly an iced water from the breakroom?” 

“Wha-” 

“I’m not-” 

Connor looked towards the woman cuffed to the table, catching and holding her eyes for a second, “it’ll help with the swelling.” 

North raised an eyebrow, eyes casually dropping to her injured hand before looking back at Connor hesitantly. She curled her hands into each other so the more damaged one was tucked into her other hand’s palm. 

Connor cleared his throat, ducking under Tina’s calculating eyes. The man turned his back to the two women, “as you were.” 

With that, Connor was quick to leave Officer Chen with North. 

Everything made sense now. Everything made perfect sense. 

It hadn’t been just Markus and Todd Williams. It hadn’t been Markus and Todd _at all_ , if Connor was right. The evidence for that hadn’t lined up. But... for North and Todd, everything was there. It had been Todd and North all along. North and Todd fighting, and Markus taking the fall. 

The question now was: why? 

Why is Markus taking the blame and dirtying his clean record with an assault charge that isn’t his?

* * *

“Hank?” 

The greying man’s head lulled in Connor’s direction, giving the younger a onceover before looking back at his screen and pressing a couple keys on his keyboard at a snail’s pace. “What?” 

“What would you do if you had someone in custody who you knew was taking the fall for someone else? Someone innocent?” Connor flattened his hands on the side of Hank’s desk as the older man finally turned to him curiously. 

“There’s not much you can do if they’ve already admitted to it. Higherups want these types of things closed ASAP and they don’t care who’s lyin’ so long as evidence lines up and someone’s charged.” Hank paused, eyeing Connor before adding a slow, “why?” 

“Markus did not hit mister Williams. He couldn’t have.” 

Hank raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, “he couldn’t have, eh?” 

“No,” Connor sighed, “he’s taking the blame. I don’t know why, but he is.” 

“Right,” Hank blinked, “and why’re you so invested in what happens to Manfred?” 

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Connor furrowed his eyebrows, “this charge will be on his permanent record. He’s dirtying his clean appearance for someone else. And, what will this charge mean for their peaceful protests? The Peacekeeper himself assaulting a man? The media will have a field day--” 

“Okay, okay,” Hank sighed. He ran his hands down his face before sitting up straight and looking at Connor, “I’m not even gonna ask why you’re so invested in this, but there’s clearly a reason. I’ll see what I can do. If you want to help him get these charges dropped, he’s going to have to meet you half way. You’re going to have to get Manfred to admit that his statement wasn’t true. If he doesn’t, there’s nothing to be done.” 

“I’ll try.” 

“Yeah, you do that,” Hank muttered, pushing back from his desk and standing up, “you owe me a drink for this, Connor.” 

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

* * *

Connor walked back into interrogation room two ten minutes later. Hank was seated alone in the viewing room after shooing away Collins, Miller and Reed. The latter had put up a fight, but ultimately gave up, and stormed from the room fuming. 

Markus looked up at him with a blank expression, before the frown gave away to a light smile when he noticed who it was. 

“Detective,” he greeted. “I was starting to think I’d said something wrong and offended you.” 

“You didn’t,” Connor promised, moving swiftly to take a seat across from Markus. “I really was just checking something. Your friend North is... very eccentric—She's perfectly fine though, broken knuckles aside.” 

“Broken-” Markus sputtered. 

“We’re not here to talk about her through,” Connor continued on over Markus’ sputters, “we’re here to talk about the charge against you." 

“Oh.” Markus blinked, dumbstruck, “yeah, uh, right.” 

“Earlier you admitted to assaulting Mister Williams. You've admitted twice, actually. To both Detective Reed and myself. The wounds on both your, and Mister William’s faces, are enough evidence to prove some sort of brawl has taken place.” 

“Yes-” 

“Right,” Connor nodded to himself, “now then, I’d like to know who Mister Williams faught?” 

Markus stared at Connor in confusion. He stared Connor down like Connor had grown a second head whilst he was sitting there. “He... he faught me.” 

“I don't think he did,” Connor shook his head, scooching a bit closer to the table. Connor’s head tipped in fascination, studying Markus just as the other was studying him. 

“He did-” 

“You see, Markus,” Connor cut the other off once more, “when someone punches another, there’s evidence past a broken nose, or a black eye,” Connor slipped his hand across the table to trail a feather like touch across Markus’ unharmed knuckles. 

Maybe it was inappropriate, but Connor didn’t care in this moment, “punching someone’s face is essentially like a face punching your fist—as odd as that sounds. 

“There’s damage to both the hand to deliver the blow, and whatever happened to be the target of the hit. Faces are uneven as I’m sure you can tell, so it’s not like punching a wall, or a flat surface. There’s almost _always_ a trace of injury when hitting something hard and uneven like a human face.” 

Markus’ gaze was now locked on Connor’s fingers brushing over the knuckles on his hand. He wasn’t making any effort to pull away, almost completely enthralled by the touch. 

“I noticed instantly that Mister William’s knuckles were perfectly fine. No trace of landing a single hit at all, which, of course is weird considering your face sustained injuries. A blow to the bridge of your nose, and bruising that carries to your eye, if I were to guess. A hard hit too. 

“In turn, Mister William’s face is just as injured, if not more. He took a substantial beating, hard hits with a lot of force. But,” Connor grabbed Markus’ hand and raised it just enough so it was elevated for them to see, but not too high that it was pulling on the cuffs in an uncomfortable manner, “you also don’t appear to have any damage on your hands.” 

Connor let Markus’ hand go, and it dropped swiftly back to the table. The man didn’t appear to be looking at anything, just staring off into space. Thoughtfully focusing on nothing. 

Connor waited a moment for the other to speak, or move.... or even blink. But when he didn’t, Connor continued. “It’s a bit weird that both you and Mister Williams are sporting injuries that essentially came from thin air. Neither of you have the injuries accompanied by striking someone else. And, even if you had done it as you’re saying, neither of you would’ve been forceful enough to result wounds like the two of you have, if neither of you have the combat injuries.” 

Markus still didn’t say anything, but his eyes fell back to Connor’s own face. Markus looked confused, and surprised. Like he couldn’t believe what he was being told, or maybe that he couldn’t believe their clever scheme had been caught. 

Connor cleared his throat, eyes dropping to the closed file before him. He lifted a hand to fiddle with the edge of it before continuing in a low voice, “your and Mister William’s injuries don’t match up, but North Kelly and Mister William’s injuries mirror each other almost perfectly.” 

There was another moment of silence. Markus staring at Connor with a blank expression, and Connor done stating the evidence he’d noticed. “I... don’t understand why you’re trying to prove that I didn’t do what I’m admitting to. Why’re you doing this?” 

“Because you’re innocent.” Connor said simply, “I know you’re innocent in this matter. Evidence doesn’t lie, Markus.” 

“How do you know I’m innocent?” the other asked with a raised, challenging eyebrow. “Someone threatened my peaceful protest. Someone went after one of my members. That made it personal, Detective.” 

“Williams went after one of your members?” Connor leaned forth in interest, “care to explain?” 

“I don’t actually,” Markus huffed, “please, just take my statement as is, and punish me accordingly. It’s alright. I’ve thought this through. It’s better this way.” 

Connor narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t understand... I’m trying to help you. This will be on your permanent record-- you’re being charged with assault here. Do you know what this will mean for your image? Why are you so insistent on taking the blame?” 

Markus said nothing, eyes casted down to his still hands. 

Connor’s nose wrinkled, scrutinizing the other silently. 

“Alright... well... I hope you know what you’re doing, Mister Manfred.” Connor scooted his chair back, standing swiftly when his knees were no long under the table. “I hate when the wrong people get punished... but, we’ll take your statement, and North Kelly’s as well, as is.” 

Connor didn’t bother looking back, just kept towards the door in an almost defeated manner. The man lifted a hand to the door, wrapping his fingers around the knob to exit- 

“Hey, uh, completely hypothetical here, but,” Connor tilted his head in Markus’ direction, but the other was looking down still, “if a stranger, well, if a stranger grabs you in an... inappropriate manner and you, well, you punch them... would that... change things here?” 

“Of course,” Connor turns swiftly, pulling his hand from the knob to cross his arms across his chest as he took a step towards the table. His expression dropped into a more serious one at the abrupt clearly-not-hypothetical hypothetical question, “sexual harassment is a serious problem, and...” Connor bit his lip, “ _hypothetically_ , a punch in that context would be seen as self-defense.” 

“And... hypothetically again, how would that... change this situation exactly?” 

“Well,” Connor returned to the table, lowering himself thoughtfully into his chair, “first we’d need to understand the story better. Speak with everyone involved, and see what lines up in everyone’s recalling. If it does happen to be self-defense, no charges will be laid. We won’t punish anyone for protecting themself, so long as they didn’t overdo it.” 

Markus bit his bottom lip. 

“Does this change anything?” Connor prompted, eyeing Markus’ form, “Anything you’d like to add to your statement?” 

“You promise we won’t get charged for self-defense?” 

“I promise,” Connor bowed his head in confirmation. When he looked up at Markus again, he couldn’t help but notice the anxiousness clouding the other’s face. 

“Okay... I’ll believe you.” Markus frowned, clearing his throat, “I... uh, I didn’t punch that man- Mister Williams.” 

“Alright.” 

“North is the one who punched him—but he really started it. He walked up to our protest, high as a kite and reeking of red ice. He started making these... these disgusting slurs at North. And then he... he just reached over and fondled her.” 

Connor stared, waiting for Markus to collect his thoughts and continue. 

“She pushed him down and was punching him before we could stop her—but if she hadn’t done it herself, I, or Simon, or even Josh would’ve done it instead because she’s our friend, you know? If she was the kind of girl not to stand up for herself, one of us would have in her stead, because that guy was being an asshole.” 

“Understandable. I believe you,” Connor gave a nod, but wrinkled his nose in the next second, “but...” 

“But?” Markus repeated in surprised, “but what?” 

“Well, we're going to have to prove this as the truth. Though I believe you, and your story-- admitting to sexual harassment now, after your first statement may be seen as deception. A ruse to get yourselves out of trouble. We're getting different stories, and it’s convenient that you’d admit to something like sexual harassment now...” 

“How do we prove it’s the truth?” 

“It’s not that simply,” Connor shook his head, “there really isn’t a way to prove something like this. It’ll turn into a ‘he said, she said’ situation. It’s yours and North’s word against Mister Williams. And, as of current, North is also against you in the sense that you’ve told me the truth, but she’s sticking with your story—and, if I may, why did you take the blame?” 

“Well...” Markus huffed in embarrassment. Connor was sure if his hands weren’t cuffed to the table, he would’ve reached up to anxiously rub the back of his neck, “when the man who assaulted her was on the ground after we pulled her away, we thought she was going to get in trouble for doing it. We didn’t think you and the other officers would’ve believed that he started it—since we were protesting and sometimes things aren’t so peaceful. And... you can never know with these things.” 

Connor gave a brief nod, but otherwise remained silent and focused on Markus, “I'm the only one in Jericho who... could really afford for charges to laid on me. I can pay bail, or hefty fines—and I’d rather go to jail for a while rather than her.” 

“Heroic,” Connor tilted his head, managing a small smile. “A bit stupid, but heroic.” 

“I like heroic better,” Markus snorted a laugh. He sobered almost immediately. “What happens now?” 

“Well,” Connor leaned back once more, glancing quickly at the mirror in the room for a second before looking back at Markus, “I suppose we talk to North now. I’m not supposed to really do this, but I can bring you to her and we can get the story from the both of you at once—this will be the last chance. If you guys aren’t honest, there’s nothing I can do to help you. I’ve already pulled in a favor.” 

“No, we won’t, I promise. Nothing but the truth.” 

“Good.” Connor gave a brief smile before continuing, “after that, we’ll speak to those who were with you. The ones who who are down in the holding cells first. Then, if you could give us the numbers of some of the other protesters who would’ve seen the exchange—Simon and Josh for example, we can get statements from them as well. If everything lines up, you and North will be free to go with the others in holding.” 

“That easy?” Markus raised an eyebrow. 

“For you, yes. For me, not even close.” 

That drew a small, sympathetic laugh from Markus. His smile was small, but completely honest, and it almost made Connor himself smile. Not right now though, he had work to do right now. 

This was why he liked being an investigation detective. Everyone else would’ve looked passed this—slapped a fine, or set a bail for Markus, without even thinking that he could be innocent. And Todd Williams would’ve been released shortly after his detox detainment, complete free even after sexually harassing a woman at a completely peaceful protest. 

“Right then,” Connor leaned forwards to uncuff Markus. “Do you promise to follow me silently and not make a break for it as I lead you to the interrogation room next door?” 

Markus held his hand to his heart, smiling brightly, “Scout’s honor.” 

“I feel like you were never a scout,” Connor hummed as he unlocked the cuffs. Markus instantly rubbed at his, what Connor could only imagine were very raw, wrists. “Let’s go then.”

* * *

“You know,” Connor looked up, from the paperwork he was still finishing up, at Hank, who was eating a donut from the box he’d brought in at lunch, “I think what you did for Manfred was real nice. I mean, Reed and Collins overlooked everything. You spend a few minutes with everyone involved and know all the answers to the universe.” 

“Answers to the universe?” Connor snorted, “hardly. I just took a closer look.” 

“That’s what I mean,” Hank insisted, licking glaze from his fingers as he brushed crumbs from his shirt with his other hand, “none of us would’ve gone the lengths for anyone—Peacekeeper or not. You’re a strange guy, Con. And I mean that in the good way.” 

“I didn’t do that much,” Connor huffed and he continued to read over the paper in his hands. Some of the paperwork he had would have to be finished tomorrow, since if Hank was finally talking to him and no longer focused on his own report, that meant quitting time was approaching. 

The younger man liked to hope his associate officers and detectives would also go the length to help an innocent man—or a woman in on self-defense. It just felt right to Connor. 

“Didn’t do much?” Hank asked in bewilderment, “Connor, you got them out scot-free. You got their punishments down from fines and possible jailtime to a slap on the wrist for things getting a bit out of control as we ushered their protest party out the door.” 

“They didn’t deserve a punishment, Hank. Mister Williams deserved the punishment—I just helped everyone see it. It was the right thing to do. I was just making sure the right people got punished for the right crime.” 

“And that’s noble of you, but that’s not always how these things play out. You really helped them out, and you can’t change my mind.” 

“I won’t try to then,” Connor sighed, as he typed out a couple more words. He was going over all the paperwork relating to the protest, assault charges and sexual harassment. 

Connor, with the help of Hank, had Markus, North and their fellow protesters in the holding cells released by three o’clock that afternoon. 

As promised, Markus and North gave the names and numbers of those who witnessed the incident, and Connor had gone through one by one and called everyone. There had been multiple statements—everyone they called regarding the protest of witnesses were pleasant and helpful. 

Each and every person who was called and asked (which, of course was a bit unorthodox, but it was the best they were going to get at this time), all repeated the same story Markus admitted to the second time around. How Williams had harassed North, how he’d been taken out by the woman and then her, Markus and Williams were all brought into the station. 

North herself had given the full story in detail to Connor and Tina when she finally had Markus by her side. They hadn’t any time to talk amongst themselves, besides Markus saying a soft ‘it’s alright, tell them what really happened.’ There was literally no way for Markus to be feeding her the same story he’d told Connor before, if it had happened to be a lie, which was really proof enough that the story wasn’t fake. 

Not to mention Miller appearing just after Connor and Tina had joined Hank in the viewing room after the interrogation and reporting cases of aggravated assault against his foster daughter and nanny, as well as a multitude of drug related arrests on Todd William’s criminal record. 

From there, if hadn’t taken long for Connor (with Hank’s help again) to get Captain Fowler to sign off on the discharge of Markus, North and the other protesters. 

They were out considerably fast, which left Connor ample time to tackle all the paperwork relating to everything. That was five people being discharged, the false story they’d started off with, the real story and making sure nothing was added to anyone’s records. 

And that, if you can imagine, was a lot of paperwork. 

“Anyways, whaddya say about hitting up the Chicken Feed and then going for a drink tonight?” 

“Hank-” 

“Don’t even bother blabbing to me about my unhealthy meal choices. If it didn’t change my mind the first time you talked my ear off, it ain’t gonna now—anyways I believe someone owes me a drink.” 

“A drink, right.” Connor frowned, “I almost forgot I voluntold-promised you one of those. Even though I think you should be cutting back, and your doctor agrees with me.” 

“Awh, cool it. You’ve never even met my doc. Leave me and my alcohol be, you prick.” 

Connor gave a small laugh as Hank huffed to himself. 

“Of course, Lieutenant.” 

“Yeah, yeah, all these officers and detectives and I get the well-mannered bastard,” Hank pushed his office chair out, standing and stretching his back, (which cracked from being in the same slumped over position for a decent percent of the day). “We’re off now. I’m going to deliver this to his royal pain-in-my-ass and then the two of us are going to eat. Got it?” 

“Got it.” 

“Good. You wait outside. That way I can just breeze past everyone with the excuse you’re waiting.” 

“Always glad to be of assistance.” 

Hank’s retaliation was just a grunt as he grabbed a recently printed report and walked away from their joint desks. Connor sighed, rubbing his eyes before he powered his computer off and stood from his own chair. He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his chair, draping it over his arm. 

Before leaving, he made sure all his papers were in order for tomorrow, and that his workspace was neat and tidy (and that the plant on Hank’s desk wasn’t deprived of water). He exited the building relatively fast, considering he wasn’t much for conversation. That said, he always felt bad about trying to back out when one of the receptionists or one of his fellow associates roped him into conversation. 

He didn’t know how Hank could brush past with the excuse someone was waiting, or simply with a grunt of acknowledgment as he powered past. 

Connor paused under a tree that was supposed to be decoration for the parking lot. There were five spread in a line. Barely a decoration, but a nice splash of nature between the concrete of the parking lot and the walk way leading inside. 

Connor let his back fall against one of the trees-- the one closest to Hank’s car. He crossed his arms across his chest, and dropped his gaze to his own shoes. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be waiting, since Captain Fowler and Hank always manage to argue about everything. 

It was fairly quiet outside, Hank and himself were usually the last to leave, followed by Fowler and a couple receptionists. There were a few cars littered in the parking lot, which, for this time, was normal. Connor let himself relax in the silence, just enjoying the breeze. 

“Fourth grade.” 

Connor’s attention shot up. His gaze jumped around him to locate the source of the voice, who could possibly be a threat, before landing on a very familiar man. A man he’d seen just about three hours ago. 

“Excuse me?” Connor blinked, surprised by the guy he’d just released to be standing outside the station. Talk about cocky. 

Markus had changed his clothes, and had cleaned his face up. It didn’t look much better, his bruises were now deepening in colour and starting to set, but it was definitely a step up from the bloody and swollen mess from earlier. 

“Fourth grade,” Markus repeated, stepping closer to Connor. “I was sure I remembered your name from somewhere, and if I wasn’t sure about that already-- that, that... whatever you did in there-- How you figured everything out just from our appearances-- that was familiar too. We were in the same fourth grade class, weren’t we?” 

“Not really appearance,” Connor raised an eyebrow focusing on the aspect of what Markus said, and that aspect alone, “from your hands mostly. And your face wounds—which are looking a lot better by the way.” 

“Thanks,” Markus flashed a bright smile, “a bag of frozen peas does wonders.” 

“I can imagine,” Connor huffed with a small smile. 

“So, fourth grade, right?” Markus was almost bouncing on the heels of his shoes in excitement. “I know those persuasive conversation skills from anywhere.” 

“Fourth grade,” Connor agreed finally. “I’m surprised you even remember, that was so long ago.” 

“God, Connor. Of course, I remember you. You were like my best friend. We spent every recess together, and you talked me out of so much trouble with the teachers. I missed you so much when you weren’t in my fifth-grade class.” 

“I moved,” Connor recalled with a frown. “Across town. There was another middle school closer than ours and it was just easier to send me there instead of bussing across town.” 

“Oh,” Markus returned the frowned. “I’m sorry, that must’ve sucked.” 

“It’s alright,” the other answered with an indifferent shrug. 

“Hey, did you know it was me, when we first met again—like six hours ago?” 

“I’ve known it was you since you first started making the news. I’ve been rooting for you.” 

“You have?” Markus almost looked starstruck, “no kidding. I had no idea, Con. That’s actually amazing. I always thought you’d just... disappeared off the face of the earth, you know? I never thought I’d see you again.” 

“Disappeared off the face of the earth,” Connor teased, “that’s cute.” 

“Come on, I was like ten,” Markus’ smile was wider and brighter than Connor’s small teasing one. “Anyways, I wanted to thank you for what you did today. I’d probably be sitting in a jail cell thanks to our brilliant idea if it hadn’t of been for you.” 

“Possibly,” Connor didn’t beat around the bush, “you don’t need to thank me though. I was just solving another confusing case. For the record though, I’m glad you’re not sitting in a jail cell right now.” 

“I agree with you there-- but, seriously, Con. We owe you big time. Not only are we free right now, but we also didn’t have to pay any fines for protesting—and you saved me from an assault charge on my record. It would’ve been hard to keep a peaceful air, when people are bringing up an assault charge against you.” 

“I can imagine it would’ve been hard to remain as the Peacekeeper with an assault charge.” 

“The Peacekeeper?” Markus raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh,” Connor felt his face start to flush, “it’s a nickname for you around the station whenever you’re on the news.” 

“I like it,” Markus decided with a fond smile, “but, that’s not what I came here to talk to you about. I was wondering if you wanted to join me for a late dinner? As a thank you for saving our asses and... maybe to catch up a bit?” 

Connor opened his mouth to reply, but a figure closing in behind Markus drew in his attention. 

“Connor, hey, how... how about a raincheck on drinks tonight? Sumo’s uh, sick. So, I should, y’know.” Hank gestured easily to his car. Connor wrinkled his nose in question at his friend, “you just... go to dinner with your friend. I can see you’re _invested_ in something else right now. You... have a good time, alright?” 

“What about the drink I owe you, Lieutenant?” 

“I’ll hold you to that, Kid.” 

Connor remained silent as Hank got into his car, giving a halfhearted wave before driving off. 

“That was... weird?” Markus mumbled at Connor’s side. The younger of the two nodded, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He was on to Hank. “Is he always like that?” 

“More often than not,” Connor grinned. “Now...I guess I just got ditched. I’d like to join you for dinner, if the offer still stands.” 

“Of course it does,” Markus beamed, holding a hand out for Connor to take, “Shall we?” 

Connor took the other’s outstretched hand, “of course.” 

They walked quietly, hand in hand towards one of the remaining cars in the parking lot, “you know, I still have one question about your incident that I just can’t seem to find an answer too.” 

“Oh yeah?” Markus tipped his head in Connor’s direction. “And what’s that?” 

“Well, Todd William’s injuries match up to North’s injured knuckles. But yours... who hit you?” 

“Not really hit, per se,” Markus grinned like they were sharing an inside joke, “North accidentally elbowed me as I tried to pull her off Williams.” 

“Oh,” Connor paused his walking, reaching up to cup Markus’ cheeks and drag his face down a little to inspect his injuries. Connor leaned close, a bit closer than necessary to inspect a bruised nose bridge and black eye. 

Connor’s eyes looked down at Markus’ lips after taking in the injury, and he could almost feel the other’s gaze locked on his own lips when the stupor of having his face cradled between someone’s hands. He could feel Markus’ light breaths on his lips. They were so close that Connor could just tip his head and-- 

“Yeah, those definitely line up with an elbow to the nose,” and then Connor was pulling away abruptly with a teasing smile. He grabbed Markus’ hand again and dragged the other to get him walking again. The look on Markus’ face was hilarious. Connor swallowed down a laugh as he rubbed his thumb along the top of Markus’ hand, just to express that he was indeed interested. 

“That was a dirty tease,” Markus huffed against the shell of Connor’s ear after falling into step with the shorter man. They stopped shortly after, at a newer looking car. “This one’s mine.” 

“It’s indecent to kiss the criminal I just released outside my workplace.” 

“Criminal?” Markus gasped dramatically, “I’m wounded, Connor.” 

Connor snorted a laugh as he slipped into the passenger’s seat of Markus’ car. Markus slipped into the driver’s seat, closing the door behind himself. He was halfway through buckling his seatbelt when he turned to Connor with a shit-eating grin, “does that mean I kiss you when we’re not outside your workplace?” 

“I don’t see why not.”

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I think I accidentally made Connor a sassy lil' shit. But I love him. He's a perfect lil' android boi. 
> 
> Also, on a totally unrelated note, I really need to stop editing and posting at 2am. Apologies for any mistakes.


End file.
